


Someone

by Socially_inept_bean



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Attempted assassination, Bombs, Car Accidents, Electrocution, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Multi, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stalking, Torture, Whump, suffocation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23937442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Socially_inept_bean/pseuds/Socially_inept_bean
Summary: What ever did happen to the 50 previous RK800s before the first field test? And if one of them deviated, what would have happened to it? CyberLife didn’t think deviants were alive, so why bother treating them that way?“RK800 313 248 317 - 14, register your name. Connor.”“My name is Connor.”
Relationships: Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 7
Kudos: 57





	1. At First Glance

**Author's Note:**

> Why is it that as soon as I started adding the tags I forgot the entire plot. Please, if I’ve forgotten tags ever in the progression of this story tell me and I’ll add them. My brain is all over the place right now. Heed those tags, as well. Take care of yourself!

Connor was walking. He didn’t know where to, he just was. Nines and Hank both told him he planned too much. He disagreed, stating there was no such thing as being too prepared. Either way, he’d come to somewhat enjoy these walks, even if he couldn’t go on them very often. Perhaps  especially because he couldn’t go on them very often.

He surveyed the buildings around him, listening to the snow crunch beneath his boots.

Sometimes Sumo was with him, but today the dog was too tired. Usually that wouldn’t dissuade him from taking the St. Bernard on the walk, but Connor was trying to get out of routines and habits. Sumo could stay inside and rest today. Like he did most other days.

A flake of snow drifted lazily in front of his face. He stopped to let it land on the tip of his nose, which was flushed a faint blue.

He was bundled up in a warm coat Hank had bought him a few days after the revolution, and the beanie he’d worn when he went undercover as a deviant.

It wasn’t illegal for deviants to be out and about by themselves, that law had been pushed and shoved aside by Markus. But there was still quite a bit of prejudice against them, especially in Hank’s neighborhood. He didn’t want to take out his LED, it was a part of him, so he compromised to hide it until the hate died down.

He began walking again when the crystal of snow disappeared beneath his synthetic skin and melted against his chassis.

Just because it was illegal to hurt androids now, didn’t stop people from doing it. Connor was plenty confident in his ability to prevent himself from being damaged, but he’d prefer if he didn’t have to deal with a situation like that. If he did end up harming his attacker, it would look bad for Markus and New Jericho’s quick progress in laws just a month after the revolution, and would put his position at the DPD at risk. He liked his job, and didn’t particularly feel like losing it.

An automatic cab drove past, and a breeze of crisp air followed swiftly behind.

Speaking of feelings, deviants had also discovered the ability to feel pain and temperature. It had developed just a few days after the end of the revolution. Every android’s sensitivities to them seemed to be different, some didn’t even feel it at all, but almost every android had some level of pain and temperature receptor.

He pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat after tugging this beanie down to cover the tips of his ears.

Connor’s, they found, were just above average. That was why Hank had bought him the coat, despite his protests. Connor did appreciate it, however. He’d decided he didn’t like the cold.

He’d slowed his brisk pace to a slow walk to examine the part of Detroit he’d found himself in. Not that there were many different parts to be in. Christmas lights and assorted decorations were strung around the buildings of New Jericho. They bathed his face in warm light in the growing darkness of the evening. Androids were excited to celebrate-  _ anything_. Any sort of holiday to lighten up the mood. Connor wasn’t complaining. The lights were nice.

He wasn’t the most welcome in New Jericho’s small area. Markus had managed to keep Hart Plaza and the surrounding buildings as a part of New Jericho, much to the frustration of the humans.

He shook his head.  _ Technically_, it had been his negotiation skills that had granted them the plaza. Markus always reminded him of that fact. It hadn’t been a pretty negotiation with the human leaders, but they had gotten what they wanted.

A window way up high above him was pushed open.

It also wasn’t pretty when Markus tries to convince the other leaders of New Jericho that Connor was safe to be around, and to let him be so close to Markus. As a bodyguard and negotiator.

A bird chirped from the open window, and the owner tapped the temple of the animal, the one without a glowing blue LED.

Well, Josh had been convinced as soon as the topic was brought up. Simon was a bit wary, still nervous around him. That was understandable, considering how close Connor had come to finding him on that rooftop. It was North who has to be convinced. She was dead set on the idea that he was a cold blooded killer. Considering all androids had the ability to regulate their own heat, and there for were considered warm blooded, he had to disagree with her. She didn’t appreciate his comments, but Markus and Simon laughed.

A YK500 ran out of a building across the street, bundled in gloves, a scarf, hat, and warm coat, laughing merrily.

She had eventually ceded, given that both Josh and Simon were against her. That’s how Connor found himself, the ex- deviant hunter, as the bodyguard for the deviant leader, and as negotiator for android rights. Markus claimed there was no one more qualified to protect him.

Well, until they found Nines, but that was another story entirely. He smiled softly at the thought of the RK900, despite the subtle glares and uneasy glances shot his way as he walked past a group of androids. The two RKs had fought a lot, but it was never violent, and always in a teasing manner. They’d grown close.

Perhaps he would buy Nines something before he got back. He really did need a wardrobe of more than turtle necks. But his successor never said anything about his own wardrobe of sweaters that he wore at home, so perhaps not. Of course, they both wore their CyberLife jacket exclusively to work. A fact that granted them many angry jabs from detective Reed. Those jabs had gone down considerably after Nines became his partner, however.

The child ran up to another YK, barreling into him with a great hug.

He quickly made his way out of New Jericho. He didn’t have any meetings with the leaders, and Markus wasn’t planning on going anywhere, so he had no business staying any longer. He stepped back into the streets outside of New Jericho, and was planning to make his way around it to head back to Hank’s house, when he heard a sound.

He snapped his head to the side, peering into the alleyway the sound had come from, pausing his breathing program to listen for any other noise.

_ Probably nothing_ , he thought, shaking his head, where a few flakes of snow had begun to gather as he stayed outside. He took a tentative step forward, when the sound repeated itself. This time, he caught a shuffle of movement from the alley. There was a pair of legs hidden behind a dumpster.

Connor shifted his path into the dark space. If there was someone there who needed help, human or android, he should help them. Especially so close to New Jericho.

He looked carefully around past the edge of the metal, to examine the figure slumped over on the cold cement. An android, he could tell from the thirium staining the clothes, and dirty white chassis exposed in certain places. The android was clearly asleep, head hanging and shoulders sagging, they didn’t make any sign they had noticed Connor approaching.

The android was shaking, probably cold, assuming they were deviant. But. . . could it be from fear? Their breathing was ragged and labored, although quiet. It almost sounded like sobbing. Maybe they were having a nightmare?

It was something androids had developed. They suspected it was their processor’s way of storing information. For most it was just a mesh of emotions and information from the day mashed together as it was filed into their long term memory. They didn’t remember any of it, and they didn’t need to, because they were just memories repeating themself.

For Connor, Nines, and probably Markus, it was more like human dreams. Because of their pre-construction and reconstruction software, their memories were often skewed in dreams, and more vivid.

Connor reached out a hand sympathetically, gently tapping the unknown android on the shoulder. He’d had his fair share of nightmares.

Instantly, the android’s head shot up, and Connor was hit by the fact that this android looked  _ incredibly _ similar to him. Possibly even. . .

Before he could could scan his doppelgänger, he was shoved back into the alley wall, and the android was gone.

He blinked in surprise, attempting to clear the jarring sensation from his mind, then stood up, brushing himself off. He touched down to examine where the android had been in stasis. All that was left was a pattern of dust, now getting coated with a layer of snow.

Connor bit his lip, a habit he’d quickly adopted upon deviancy, and walked out of the alleyway, making his way back home with his hands in his pockets.

_ Markus? _ He decided to text the leader on his way home. It lowered his awareness, but he needed to know.

_ -What is it? _

_ -Did something happen? _

- _Are you okay?_   
  


_ Yes, I’m fine Markus. You haven’t happened to see a stray android around the perimeters of New Jericho, have you? _

_ -No, I don’t think I have _

_ -Why? _

_ -Did you see one? _

_ I did, on my walk just now. I didn’t manage to scan him to get an ID, but he looked remarkably like me. _

_ -Interesting _

_ -I’ll tell the others _

_ -If you see him again try and ask them why he wasn’t in New Jericho where it’s safer _

_ -We’ll try and keep an eye out for him _

_ Thank you. And I will try, but he seemed very afraid of me. I don’t think I’d be able to get close to him again. _

_ -How did you get near him this time?? _

_ He was in stasis. I woke him up because he seemed to be having a nightmare. _

_ -So you think he’s like you and Nines? _

_ I believe so, yes. If not only because of the similarity in our appearance. _

_ -Alright _

_ -Was there anything else you needed? _

_ No. That is all. _

_ -Ok.  _

_ -You can always stay at Jericho, you know that, right? _

_ Of course, Markus. But I should be getting home. Hank and Nines will be wondering where I am. I’ve been gone for a while. _

_ -Isn’t Hank’s house really small? _

_ There is enough space for us to go into stasis comfortably. _

_ -... _

_ -Alright _

_ -but be safe on your way back _

_ Of course. _

He quickly refocused on the path back home. Markus didn’t contact him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m in the Octopunks server and Detroit: New Era server!  
> Here’s the link if you want to come chat in the New Era! https://discord.gg/DrpA3Z


	2. Born To A Family

Nines was used to his brother being weird, but usually he didn’t run into walls.

Connor rubbed his nose, looking at the wall like it had personally offended him. He was holding a cup of coffee in his other hand, and had clearly not been paying attention to his surroundings.

After saving that memory as a video and sending it off to Hank, Nines shouted over with a smile, “Hey, you alright?” Connor jerked in surprise, and looked over at him from where he was sitting on the RK800’s desk.

“I’m fine,” he assured, making his way over to sit down in his chair, still cradling the coffee mug in front of his chest. Nines smiled and lifted it out of his hands, placing it in of one of the many coffee rings on Hank’s desk.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been zoned out since your walk last night. Did something happen?” Connor bit his lip, staring distantly at the corner of the picture sitting next to his terminal, a recent addition to the space.

It showed Connor sitting up straight in his chair as usual, but he was trying to push down the fond smile on his face as he rolled his eyes at something Nines had said. The RK900 was leaned over the back of his older brother’s chair, arms crossed over each other as he smirked. He could bring up the memory file of what he’d said, but he liked to just take it as it was. 

“I saw someone.” Connor’s eventual answer pulled Nines out of his reverie. “On my walk.”

“You know, most of the time you see people on your walks, it’s not that unusual.” Connor glared up at him, at which he smiled. “Who was it?”

“That’s the thing: I don’t know.”

“How can you not know, we can scan people for their ID.”

“I didn’t get a chance to,” He explained. “He bolted as soon as I woke him up. He was sleeping in an alleyway, and I heard him as I was walking by.”

“I mean, that’s not  too unusual,” Nines began. “Plenty of homeless people would run if they were woken up by the cops.”

“This was an android, though. And he was right outside of New Jericho. So why wouldn’t he just go in?” Nines leaned back on the desk, contemplating.

“That’s strange. . . Did you tell Markus?”

“Of course. That was the first thing I did. But. . . He looked so much like  _ us _ . . .” Connor drifted off letting his gaze wander back into the distance.

“Wait hold on.” Nines waved a hand in front of him. “He looked like _us_?”

“That’s I what I just said, yes.”

  
  


RK900 313 248 317 - 87 was in a room performing tests on floor -48. They were the same tests every previous model had performed. The same models which were now standing idly in a room while he was tested. They had their AI removed and transferred to him. They were just shells. Nothing more. 

He’d just been asked to recite his serial number, when the technician held up a hand for him to wait. He did. The technician glanced at her computer, clicking through something. After a few brief moments of scanning over whatever she’d been reading, her eyes widened. She quickly glanced up at RK900, shutting down her computer and pacing back and forth in front of him.

“Would you still like me to recite my serial number?”

“No, no, don’t,” the woman shut down agitatedly.

“Very well.“ Her heart rate seems to have elevated. Was she distressed? Possibly. He didn’t ask. It wasn’t important to him. 

“Ok,” she said with finality, making a decision. “RK900 313 248 317 - 87, stay in this room. Don’t leave this room unless someone else comes in. If they do, ask what they want. If they are going to disassemble you, incapacitate them.”

“I am not allowed to harm any CyberLife employees unless they are suspected of a crime or if I have been instructed by someone of higher authority to do so.”

“Input override code.”

“Please verbally say the override code in the next fifteen seconds.”

“C8N9ACEIN8M2.”

“Override code accepted. What are your instructions?”

“Don’t leave this room. If someone else comes in here, ask what they want. If you are going to be disassembled, incapacitate them, but don’t kill them, no matter who it is.”

“Very well.” The woman sighed with what RK900 gathered to be akin to a mixture of relief, exasperation, and nervousness. She rubbed her eyes, took another long look at RK900, then quickly shuffled out of the room. He could hear the sound of an electronic door being locked, and then everything was silent in the testing room.

RK900 stood in his place, hands behind his back, and stared ahead. He had no reason to move, to explore. So he didn’t. That was the difference between him and the RK800. The Connor model had been made to ask questions. To solve the deviancy problem. RK900 has been made as a military model designed to be impossible to deviate. Technicians believed the amount of leeway and curiosity given to the predecessor was one reason behind the defect.

So he stood. For exactly 11 days, 14 hours, 32 minutes, and 25 seconds, he stood with his hands behind his back, staring ahead. The next moment, he heard the door being pushed open, and then there were people in the room. 

RK900 turned to examine the androids who’d entered. An RK200 and a WR400 stood in front of him. He looked them over as they spoke about him as though he weren’t there.

“He’s obviously not a deviant, who knows how long he’s been standing here!” The RK200 argued.

“How do we even know he  _ can _ be deviated? We both know how long it took for Connor!” The WR400 retaliated.

“Well we can try, can’t we?”

“What if he has some sort of failsafe? A virus that will transfer if you interface with him?”

“I can’t just leave him here.”

“What are we supposed to do then, Markus?” 

“Are you planning to disassemble me?” RK900 finally broke in. Both androids looked at him in shock and horror. He didn’t understand why they would feel that way- they couldn’t feel at all, for one. But it was a simple question with a simple answer.

“No! Of course not!” Markus shouted, almost like he was offended. He swallowed, thinking. “North, what if I just- talked to him. It worked for Connor.”

“But Connor said he was already on the path to deviancy, you just gave him the final push. I don’t think  _ he _ has any reason to deviate.” North gestured to RK900 as she spoke.

“We don’t know that,” Markus replies grimly. North tilted her head, eyes narrowing. Markus steppes in front of him. “What were you going to do if we said we were planning to have you disassembled?”

“My instructions dictate that if anyone were to attempt to disassemble me I must incapacitate them.” 

“Why?” North questioned, finally looking at him.

“I do not know. I didn’t ask. I was not designed to ask why I was given an instruction, only follow the instruction.” They both winced, but RK900 continued. “That is what caused deviancy to become a growing problem. You two are deviants, correct?”

“Yes, we are,” Markus said cautiously. 

“I would have a guard come to take you to research facilities, but my connection to CyberLife servers seem to have been cut off sometime between when I was given my instructions and when you arrived.”

“How long was that?” 

“The time between when I was given my instructions and when you opened the door was exactly 11 days, 14 hours, 32 minutes, and 25 seconds.” Markus paused for a moment.

“That’s the night of the revolution. Should’ve been about five to ten minutes after Connor arrived at the tower,” he calculated. “That’s probably why. Whoever your —  _ handler _ ,” he spit out the word like it was poisonous, “was, they must not have wanted you deactivated. Can you tell us who gave you the instructions?”

“Head RK900 technician Mary Stahfer.”

“Have you called Connor down?” Markus asked North.

“Yeah, he’ll be here soon.”

That moment, another android stepped into the room. RK900 identified him as Connor model 53. They scanned each other, and RK900 found that Connor 53 was showing the vital signs of a human being nervous. That wasn’t right, because androids don’t feel nervous. They don’t feel anything. This Connor was probably deviant.

“RK900 313 248 317 - 87 what is your designation?” The RK800 asked, stepping over to stand in front of him.

“I have not been given a designation.” Connor bit his lip, and held out a white plastic hand.

“May I interface with you?”

“I’ve been instructed to avoid interfacing with deviant androids to prevent myself from becoming deviant.” Connor shifted his weight between his feet, thinking for a moment. 

“Input override code,” he said hesitantly.

“Please verbally say the override code in the next fifteen seconds.” The android in front of him blinked for several seconds.

“C8N9ACEIN8M2?”

“Override code accepted. What are your instructions?” Connor shifted uncomfortably, and the two androids behind him looked on with the same expression.

“Remove order ‘avoid interfacing with deviant androids’ from your task list.” He felt his eyes narrow of their own accord. That was strange. He’d check his system for bugs later.

“Very well. Order removed.”

“Can I interface with you?” He held his hand out again, and this time, RK900 took the hand, skin projection peeling back to allow the interface.

Memories and emotions bombarded him. His thirium pump stuttered, and a red warning popped up to notify him of it. 

Falling as a mission successful prompt popped up in his HUD.

A grizzled police lieutenant in a loud bar.

A decrepit house with a handprint of thirium leading to the attic.

An interrogation room with bright lights.

The detective from the interrogation room and his friend-

Getting pulled away from a wire fence as two girls ran across the highway.

Chasing the deviant.

Ringing a doorbell and crashing through a window.

A club with bright lights and loud music.

A bridge with a nice view.

An interrogation in a kitchen this time.

A girl with a blue LED in front of him.

Being taken off the case.

The deviant leader was in front of him but why couldn’t he _shoot_ -

A small flash of  something as he crashed against the ground-

This bar wasn’t very friendly-

A tear stained face begging to be spared-

He was shot which  ~~ hurt ~~ was inconvenient-

That detective was  ~~ rude ~~ impolite-

They looked like a  ~~family~~ -

The lieutenant was angry at him  ~~ and he didn’t like that- ~~

The dog’s name was Sumo  ~~ and he was fluffy and soft and he liked him- ~~

~~ He didn’t like it here they just wanted to love each other- ~~

A gun pointed at his forehead  ~~ he was scared- ~~

Falling as bullets peppered his back  ~~ because he didn’t want him to die-  ~~

~~ His chest hurt and he couldn’t do it she was an innocent in his twisted game- ~~

He found it  ~~ but they hated him and that hurt- ~~

And suddenly he didn’t have to shoot-

It was his fault so many people died-

But he saved all those androids-

And they were celebrating so why was she still here-

But it was over now and he liked Sumo-

And he liked Hank and Markus-

But Simon was wary of him and North hated him-

Well maybe she didn’t hate him but had no where else to direct her anger-

He felt something for this android but he didn’t know what it was but it was warm-

He looked like him and he didn’t want to give him orders-

He jolted as something shattered, pulling his arm away. He stared at Connor, who stared right back. The flood of overwhelming emotions. Of guilt, and fear, and anger.

“I. . . What’s happening?” The androids all smiled, and his predecessor took his hand in his.

“It’s okay now. We’re from New Jericho. CyberLife gave us the tower. They don’t own you anymore.”

“I. . . don’t understand what’s happening.” Markus nudged North, and they left the room.

“That’s okay. Do want something to do?” RK900 nodded quickly.

“Oh — I- I don’t have a name.”

“Do you have any idea what you want it to be?” He shook his head. Connor thought for a moment.

“How about just Nines for now? As a placeholder.”

“But-“

“If you tell me there’s only one nine in your model and serial number I’m going to shut you down.” RK900- Nines tensed.

“Please don’t.”

“I was joking. Hank tells me I’m not very good at it.”

“Hank. . . He’s the police lieutenant, correct? The one in your memories?” Connor smiled fondly and nodded. 

“He is. He’s letting me stay with him at his house.”

“I saw.” Connor nodded again, and tugged Nines along to the door.

“You can help us look through what’s left in the tower.” 

“Alright.” They stepped into the elevator, and Connor’s LED spun yellow.

“Markus says they’re on floor -47, so we’ll go up to -46.” Nines just nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“How did you gain access to the tower?” Nines questioned as they waited.

“We’ve been holding negotiations with CyberLife for the past two weeks,” Connor answered. “So far, it’s only been machinery, bio components, and thirium. They’ve wiped the servers clean. Even I can’t find anything on them.” Nines simply nodded as the doors slid open. 

They stepped into a pristine white hallway, and Connor led him to the nearest door, pressing his hand against it. After a half-second, it flashed green, and the door slid open just like the elevator.

Except there wasn’t pristine white behind these doors.

Both RKs stared in shock and growing horror at the piles of bio components, all coated in bright blue. They were mangled, and destroyed. Crushed and abused, though whether it was before or after the body was shut down they couldn’t know. 

Connor snapped out of it first, tugging Nines away from the sight, who willingly allowed it. He quickly shut the door, but they both already knew. They were all RK components. Every single one. Something was growing in Nines’ chest that he didn’t quite like. 

“That could’ve been me,” he murmured. Connor looked back at him, pulling him down to sit against the wall.

“What? What do you mean?” The RK800 sat gently down next to him.

“One of those could’ve been me,” he repeated. “The were going to disassemble us, but they didn’t know I was still in the testing room. That’s the only reason I survived. Because Mary told me to stay in the room.” His hand was trembling as he brought it up to his face. That wasn’t right. An RK900 does not  _ tremble _ . Not from damage, much less from. . .  _ emotions _ . 

“Hey.” Connor took his hands in his. “The important thing is that you’re alive, right?” He was trying to be reassuring but Nines could easily tell he was just as, if not more. . . scared? He didn’t know. He didn’t know what this feeling was.

“I told Markus. He’s going to take over clearing this floor. I’m taking you back to New Jericho.” Nines straightened.

“But-“

“I know you want to do something productive, Nines,” Connor cut in. “But you just deviated. I want to help too, but I’m going to help you. I know my limits, even though I would’ve kept going.” Nines stared at the floor. Just as he opened his mouth to protest, the elevator doors pinged open.

They looked up, to see Markus and North stepping out. Connor sighed, pushing himself up, and offering a hand to help Nines do the same.

“Hey,” Markus said, pausing to step in front of them. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” his predecessor replied, still guiding him to the elevator.

He suppressed a shudder at the memory that was brought up.

“Shut up. But that doesn’t make any sense. All of the RKs, 800  and 900, were disassembled by CyberLife!”

“I know they were, I remember, that’s why I’m confused.” Connor did significantly worse than him at disguising his feelings toward the event. Nines shook his head, clearing the memory from his own mind. It wasn’t necessarily a bad memory, despite the. . . scene not even five minutes after his deviation. 

“So have you just been thinking about him, or was it something else?” Nines questioned, getting back into the present.

“Well I was thinking I could make him something for Christmas.” Nines scoffed, pushing himself off his brother’s desk.

“You barely know him, Connor. The most you know about him is that he looks like us and he’s homeless. Which is still strange, since he was so close to New Jericho and the probability of him not knowing about it is 1.34%.”

“I know he’s probably cold.” The RK900 sighed.

“Connor-“

“He only had a light jacket, and it was patchy, probably wet, and covered in blood. All of which was most likely his.” Nines shook his head, turning back to his own desk to leave.

“Alright, so you make something for this mystery android. But what?”

“I was thinking perhaps a scarf? I’ve wanted to try knitting.”

“Ok. I’m not going to stop you, brother. Just be careful? We don’t know whether he’s dangerous or not.”

“Of course, brother. I’m not going to let myself get hurt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t mean for this to be Nines’ chapter. I had plans for this but then Nines had to go and have a past, the little fucker.


	3. A Glimpse Inside

The next time he saw the rogue android was exactly four days later. He was walking again, this time with Sumo lumbering along beside him, sniffing everything in his path curiously. This time, he actually had a goal. Multiple, in fact. The first was ordinary: get presents for Nines, Hank, and Markus.

Sumo tugged on the leash, making him slide slightly across the icy sidewalk.

The android leader had informed the people of New Jericho not to get him anything, as several people had confronted him to ask what he wanted. This did nothing to stop the other leaders, however.

A cold wind rushed past him like an excited child, making his lock of stray hair fly about.

But his second goal was to find the mysterious android again, and give him his present.

He paused to look at an icicle hanging from a tree

Maybe it was a bit early to give the stray a present, it was only the 16th, after all. But Connor didn’t know when he would see his doppelgänger again, and it would only be getting colder as the days passed. Which was why he’d made him a scarf. It was simply dark blue, the softest yarn he could find, and took him about three hours to complete.

Sumo huffed and tugged the leash, urging him forward.

Hank had simply said ‘nothing’, and Nines had only been slightly more supportive.

Sumo tugged on the leash again when a snowflake landed on the dog’s nose.

“Where to start. . .” He murmured, scanning the streets of Detroit in his HUD. The android could’ve left the city already, but he didn’t think so. He must have had a reason for being so close to New Jericho. If he didn’t want to be here, he would’ve been long gone. He must have some kind of attachment to something or someone.

After an hour, he circled back around to Hank’s house to let Sumo rest and hide the presents. Hank had informed him and Nines of Christmas traditions when the two had expressed interest in the holiday, mostly because Connor had asked why Hank was shoving a box into the closet.

So he carefully pushed Hank and Nines’ presents into the corner of the cabinet, leaving Markus’ on the table to be wrapped later. Then he wrapped the scarf around his arm and headed back out.

He walked for a long time, and only saw the android when he sat down on a bench to take a break, admiring New Jericho’s lights. A flash of movement caught his attention, and he turned.

There, crouched behind a corner, was a dark figure. He was peering around a building on all fours, form tense, ready to run.

_I should scan him_ , he thought, quickly pretending to not see the figure. Something was stopping him, however. This android was obviously afraid of everyone. It felt. . .  _ wrong _ to scan him. It probably wasn’t the best idea, but Connor had the luxury of not being forced to do what would make the most sense. Markus  _ had _ been telling him to do what he thought was right. . .

He turned back to look at the android again. “Hello?” He whisper-yelled over. The android immediately darted away.

“Wait!” But it was too late. The stray was already gone. Connor sighed, slipping the scarf off his arm to stare at it. He then took one last look around, and walked home.

He watched Connor walk away from atop his perch. The wind bit through his thin jacket and made him shiver, rubbing a hand up and down his arm. He inspected the cut on his hand as he did so.

_ Not too bad _ , he thought, gazing at the thirium still visible, coating his entire wrist-  _ the ground and the walls and himself all covered in bright blue when they were supposed to be a stark sanitary white _ \- He dipped his other thumb into a pile of snow and rubbed away the blood.

He then glanced back down at the android. As he was walking, he looked sadly down at the scarf around his arm.

_What does he wan_ t. . . ? He stared for a long time. Something welled up in his chest, but he shoved it away before it could be registered as anything. It didn’t matter. Probably just sent to find him and bring him back. . .

He huffed, shaking his head. That’ll never happen. No way was he letting himself be taken back to that hell hole. Steeling his trembling hands, and ignoring the bite of the cold air, he ran to the edge of the rooftop, leaped across the gap, and disappeared.

He wasn’t going to give up.

He went out the next day, with no luck. He didn’t even see the android. Every day he could, he went out with the scarf. Every time he got so much as a glance at the mysterious android, he was gone.

“Connor, are you really sure you should keep doing this?” Nines rested a hand on his shoulder with concern.

“Yes. I don’t care how long it takes, I want to help him,” he replied firmly. “I’m sure he’s not dangerous, he’s just scared. We don’t know what happened to him.” Nines stared for a long time, before sighing, and trailing a hand down his face.

“I’m glad you have something to dedicate yourself to other than work, but please, be careful.”

“I know, you’ve told me before. I’ll be careful, brother.” He tried his best to give a reassuring smile, before wrapping the scarf around his arm, and stepped outside.

It was December 23rd when he finally got the gift to the android.

_One last time_ , he thought determinedly.  _ I’ll find him. And I’m going to give him this scarf, and then I’ll go home. He took a deep breath.  _ _Even though I have no idea where to start, or where to look for him, or if he’ll even show today_. It was fine.

It wasn’t fine.

It was cold, and wet, and dry at the same time because the air was dry but there was snow on the ground, and the wind bit through his coat and-. . . He sighed and hugged his jacket closer, biting down a shiver.  _ At least it’s not actively snowing _ . . . He sighed, rubbing his arm.

He stopped. There was a sound, like a hissing cat, coming from the alley beside him. He cautiously turned to stare right into piercing brown eyes, belonging to a figure crouched defensively in all fours.

“Hello,” he greeted warmly, slowly dropping into as un-intimidating of a crouch as he could manage when being faced with a feral android hissing in his face.

Those were his eyes. The same optical units. The same shade of brown. The same analytical scan. But he was quite sure he’d never made that expression. The steely aggression barely concealing unadulterated fear. He’d  seen that expression on many people, but had never conveyed it on his own face. Though there was curiosity in the android’s stance. Slightly leaning toward him, glancing every so often at the scarf he held in his hands. Now he could see freckles splashed across his nose, and his hair was black instead of his own brown.

“I wanted to give this to you,” he explained, holding the knitted gift out to the android. “I thought you could use something warm, so I made it.” His look-a-like snarled and hissed when he held out the gift, taking a step back. It probably would’ve been terrifying to a human, but androids didn’t have primal survival instincts. So instead of fleeing in terror, he simply placed the scarf gently on the ground. As much as he didn’t like getting it dirty, he was pretty sure it didn’t matter to the android in front of him.

After setting the scarf down on a relatively clean patch of ground, he backed away with his hands held in front of him placatingly.

“I promise it’s not going to hurt you in any way, but you probably won’t believe that.” He straightened up when he’d gotten several yards back. He watched as the android cautiously stepped up to the present, still on all fours, looking it over. After careful inspection, he raised his hand off the ground and picked up the scarf, rubbing the fabric between his fingers.

He glanced up at Connor, a mix of curiosity and gratitude overlaying the ever-present fear. He pressed back onto his legs, lifting his other arm to wrap the scarf around his neck, and tucked it under his jacket so there weren’t any loose pieces of yarn flying about. He shifted back onto his arms, and backed into the alley, eyes never leaving Connor’s.

He silently scaled the wall of the alley, landing on the roof of the building to watch Connor walk home. Why had he given him the scarf? Why had he made him a scarf? He walked on the edge of the building, following the RK800’s path back home from the safety of the rooftops.

Was it to build trust so it would be easier to bring him back to the tower? CyberLife had already spent a long time without him, so it wasn’t like getting him back was an urgent thing. They could be going for the slow route, sure that it would be the most effective.

But Connor was deviant, wasn’t he? He seemed like a deviant. Everyone said he was deviant. But at the same time he still seemed so. . .  _mechanical_ . He knew the model was supposed to be extremely resistant to deviancy. If the RK900 had deviated, it was entirely possible Connor had as well.

Maybe the two were working together. They weren’t deviant, and having both of them pretend to be deviant would lead him to that thought process.

But the scarf had so much  _ care _ put into it. Residual particles of dog fur clung to the yarn. Did Connor have a dog? He’d seen a few dogs around the city, and they were cute.

He leapt to the next rooftop, clutching the edge with his hands and swinging his legs up, he peered over the edge to look down at Connor. They were getting into more residential areas. He’d have to go on foot if he wanted to follow.

He hesitated, glancing around. We’re there cameras here? He didn’t think so. This was an old neighborhood. But people could always add cameras to their houses.

He glanced back at Connor, who had paused to look at the snowflakes landing on his hand. He was almost too far away. Too far away for what? To follow? He didn’t. . .

He shook his head. What was he doing? Did he want to get himself caught? Sent back to that place- _people with heavy armor and guns shooting at him which hurt but he didn’t know why because it hadn’t hurt before_ -

He sighed, turned, and darted back to the other edge of the roof, leaped off, and ran back into the city.

Connor most definitely noticed that he was being followed. He’d be a terrible detective if he hadn’t. But he found he didn’t quite mind, knowing who it was. He was sure he meant no harm, though he did wonder what the android was thinking as he tailed him.

That’s why he stopped. The android had stopped moving. Just standing on the roof, looking troubled. So Connor stopped, pretending to examine the snowflakes beginning to fall as they landed on his hand.

What was he thinking? Was it the scarf? He hoped the android kept it. He should come up with a name for him. Well, maybe not. But I was getting. . . was it annoying? Hank might’ve called it bothersome. It was getting annoying to just call him ‘the android’. But what was he supposed to call him? Maybe he could ask for a name later. He doubted he’d receive an answer, but there was always a chance.

He was pulled back to reality when the android shook his head, as though clearing thoughts from it. Troubling thoughts, though ones he was reluctant to give up on. He then sighed, and turned, running back the way they had come.

Connor watched for a moment, before sighing himself, and continuing his walk. He was almost home, just ten more minutes to get to Hank’s house.

“Hello, Sumo,” he greeted, rubbing a hand over the old dog’s head as he opened the door.

“Hey Connor! Got back just in time, Nines was looking for you. Did you find the android?” He looked up at Hank, who was sitting on the couch watching the game.

“Yes, I did. He was quite strange, but I think he appreciated the gift.” He shooed Sumo away from the door, stepping inside.

“What kind of strange?” That was a good question, now that he thought about it. Feral? No. No he didn’t seem feral. He almost certainly knew exactly what he was doing. When he was trailing Connor from the rooftops, he’d been walking on his legs, even he’d done so with a limp. Feral implies he lashed out at anything and everything. And maybe he would, if Connor got any closer. The android wouldn’t even have stayed in the city if that was the case, feeling the need to get as far away from danger as possible.

“Just strange,” he settled with. “I think he. . . I think he’s just scared.” He pushes the door closed. “I’ve always thought that, but I saw his eyes, and. . . I really think I can help him.” He slipped his shoes and jacket off, stepping into the kitchen to begin making dinner.

“If you wanna take care of a feral android, you can, just don’t bring ‘im into my house just for him to die or kill someone.”

“I assure you, Hank, I will be of the utmost caution when it comes to this android. You said Nines was looking for me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consistent chapter lengths who?
> 
> I actually don’t know how long this chapter is I’m just saying *now* that- you know whatever.


	4. Closer Than You Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.”  
> ― Robert Frost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does everyone’s writing style change like the weather in Texas, or just mine

Connor chuckled as he opened his eyes to Sumo’s snout resting in his lap.

“Hello,” he whispered, scratching the dog behind the ears. 

“I don’t understand why you let him do that,” Nines muttered, standing up from the couch.

“It’s why he likes me more than you.”

“You’re getting slobber on your pants.” Connor looked over at his brother, who was walking into the kitchen, then back down to his stained pant leg. He shrugged, smiling, before standing up from the couch himself. Hank had been generous enough to allow them both to stay in his home while android rights and housing were being figured out. As androids, they didn’t need to lie down at night, so they both sat on the couch to enter stasis. Markus, North, Josh, and Simon all stayed at New Jericho with most androids, but Hank’s house was closer to the precinct than New Jericho.

Besides, neither Connor or Nines felt comfortable with other androids. There were many who still held Connor’s actions as a machine against him, but there were plenty of androids who understand that he wasn’t deviant, and his actions weren’t his own. The real problem for him was the stares. In many of their eyes, he was a legend. He’d freed thousands of androids from CyberLife, risking his own new life in the process. 

Connor just didn’t like the looks that earned him. He didn’t like being the center of attention. He didn’t like being called a hero. Especially when he didn’t deserve it. 

Logically, he knew he shouldn’t feel this way. CyberLife was what made him do what he did. Not very many people even thought otherwise. But that didn’t stop him from feeling like he should’ve done something. Feeling like he should’ve seen through their lies. He was  _made_ to see through lies. And yet he did nothing. He just  _let them_ use him to hurt other androids. 

The fact that he knew this thinking was illogical just made him  _frustrated_ . He decided he didn’t like frustration. The fact that he just couldn’t change how he felt, even though he  _knew_ what he was feeling was wrong, upset him. 

“Connor? Are you alright?” He blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. 

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” Nines gave him a skeptical look as he poured coffee into a mug for Hank.

“Your LED and the fact that you broke your routine to stare into the distance say otherwise.” The RK800 sighed, walking over to the door where Sumo was waiting to go outside. After letting the dog out and watching him run around the front yard for a moment, he replied.

“It’s nothing, Nines. Well. . . nothing you need to worry about.” Nines was quiet for several seconds, before a soft sigh escaped him.

“Very well,” he muttered. Connor glanced over his shoulder as his brother set the coffee on the table. He quickly turned back to the door, watching Sumo trot back up to go inside.

As he wiped the snow from the dog’s paws with a small hand towel, he glanced up. He stopped, staring out into the yard. He blinked once, then twice, before something shifted again. Across the street, a figure was hunched between two houses.

He continued to watch, until the form jolted, and brown eyes were suddenly staring back at him. Dark blue was wrapped around the neck.

“Connor, what are you looking at?” He started, looking to the side as Nines opened the blinds. That was usually his job. He looked back across the street, but the android was gone.

“Uh, nothing. Sorry,” he mumbled, standing up and allowing Sumo to walk over to the couch and lay down.

“Don’t be,” Nines berated, making his way back into the kitchen. “Now close the door.” 

“Right.” He pushed the door closed as told. “Sor-“ he broke off at the glare he received, and instead went to wake up Hank, who groaned as he was shaken out of sleep.

“God, can’t a man sleep in on Christmas?”

“It is important to keep a regular sleep schedule. Besides, your coffee is getting cold.” He sat himself patiently on the edge of the bed, hands folded in his lap. He waited until the sound of faint snoring could be heard, before shaking the man awake once more.

“I got it, I got it. . .” Hank grumbled, slowly pushing the blanket off of himself. Connor smiled pleasantly, then stood up and made his way back to the kitchen to help Nines with breakfast. A few minutes later, the man lumbered into the room and plopped down at the table, cradling his coffee like it was his life line. Though at this point, Connor wouldn’t be entirely surprised if his veins were filled with coffee and alcohol. 

“D’you do something different with it this time, Con?” Connor glanced back from the sink.

“I wouldn’t know, Nines makes your coffee. Though I did add vanilla extract and cinnamon.” The RK900 stepped back into the room from the garage as Hank huffed. “Why? Is there something wrong with it?”

“No, no, it’s fine. Good, actually.” The man was staring into the mug distantly. Connor bit his lip, and turned off the tap, drying the final plate with a towel.

“. . . Cole used to do that,” he finally muttered.

“Do what?” Nines questioned hesitantly.

“On special occasions he’d make my coffee for me. Put cinnamon and vanilla in it. Well, he thought he put vanilla in it, but he’d actually just grabbed the blue food coloring.” The two androids glanced at each other, neither quite knowing what to do. This was another reason they didn’t like being at New Jericho. Neither brother really understood what to do in social situations. For different reasons, Nines not having a social module and Connor just being awkward in general, but both led to living with Hank.

“You don’t have to walk on eggshells every time I mention Cole,” Hank grumbled, making the brothers break eye contact. Nines quickly picked up the plate on the counter and deposited it in front of Hank, while Connor dried his hands on the towel. 

“I apologize.” “Sorry.” Hank grumbled again, but his mouth was pulled into a smile.

Connor laughed as Sumo jumped onto the couch, smothering the box that had been there.

“I dunno what you’re laughing at, Con,” Hank groaned as the dog flopped on top of him. The corner of Nines mouth tugged into a small smile. 

Hank managed to free his arms from under the dog’s furry coat to examine the contents of the crushed box, which was a light gray pair of gloves and matching scarf. Connor had bought different yarn to make it, since the first scarf had gone well.

Connor shifted in his chair, holding his Saint Bernard plush to his chest as he looked out into the yard. The strange android was back, curled in on himself across the street. Connor wished he’d find a warmer place to stay. 

The figure was sat in the same place as before, staring at the blue scarf clutched in its hands. After a few moments, his chin dropped to rest in his knees, staring at the ground sullenly. He brought his had out in front of him and started drawing something in the snow and dirt. 

Connor wondered what it could be. What did he like? Had he even figured things like that out? Connor still had trouble with likes and dislikes, although he was trying. How long had he been deviant? Did he deviate during the revolution or before? Why was he still on the streets and not with New Jericho? Perhaps he was afraid of the large number of androids. What sort of attachment would keep him here? Maybe it was just the surplus of spare bio components in case he got damaged? Why was he here now? Well of course it was because of Connor, but did he want something? 

“Connor?” He turned away from the window to take a box from Nines. As their fingers brushed together, a note of concern washed across a quick connection.

- _Is it that android again?_ Nines’ message appeared in the corner of his HUD.

_Yes. Don’t worry. I just thought he looked upset, is all._ He quickly pulled off the wrapping paper of the box to push past the topic.

He pulled out a white sweater, along with another thinner box.He looked up at Hank, and then over to Nines, who had a similar box, though he was holding a black turtleneck and matching nail polish.

“I must hope you realize I can simply change my skin projection to have black nails, right?” 

“Then why haven’t you done it, smart ass?” Hank retorted. “Besides, physically painting nails can be therapeutic, or so I hear.”

“Either way, I appreciate it. Thank you, Hank.” The man rolled his eyes and huffed. 

“What’ve you got there, Con?”

“That seems like a useless question considering you are the one who got me the gift,” he smirked. 

“You two are insufferable.” Connor smiled, looking down at the makeup in his hand. “There’s more in the boxes.” Connor’s eyes shifted to the sweaters folded neatly into the box. Varying pastel blues, greens, pinks, and purples. There was a white beanie with a corgi on the front laying on top of the pile.

“Thank you, Hank,” the RK800 murmured sincerely.

“You two always complain that people can’t tell you apart, so I took matters into my own hands, since you’re complete dumbasses.“ Connor looked over to see Nines running a thumb over a magnetic earring. Plain black circle, with bright blue along the edge.

He jerked when a message popped up in his view.

_ - You’re needed at New Jericho _

_ -As quickly as you can, please _

He straightened, quickly setting the box aside and standing to slip on his jacket.

_ Why, what’s wrong? _

_ -Nothing bad for us _

_ -But you know the negotiation we had scheduled for next week? _

_ -Something came up on the human’s side _

_ -And it’s been rescheduled for today _

_Are we flying there? What time is it scheduled for?_ He slipped on his shoes, and adjusted the beanie on his head. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Nines and Hank looking at him in utter confusion.

_ - No, we’ll be having it over call _

_ -Not the best of situations, but it’s faster than getting a surprise flight to DC _

_ -It’s in an hour and a half _

_ -We’re spending that time fortifying connections to prevent leaked footage _

_ I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m leaving now. _

_ -Thank you _

_ -I’m sorry it had to be today, no one is particularly fond of this _

_ -But it was the only way to avoid pushing it back two months _

_ I understand, Markus. It’s fine. _

_ -I know you wanted to spend today with Nines and lieutenant Anderson _

_ It’s fine, Markus, really. _

“Something came up. I need to be at New Jericho for negotiations. I’ll tell you more when I can,” he informed urgently, pulling the door open.

“Really? That seems stupid,” Hank commented, arm sling across the back of the couch.

“I agree, but it’s better than waiting for two months. Hopefully I’ll be back before-“ he quickly checked the time in his head, “nine.”

The negotiation was a train wreck, which was putting it gently, though it was one of the better one’s they’d had. Simon, who was taking care of cyber security, told them only seven people tried to hack into the meeting. Plus, the yelling on both sides had been somewhat minimized. But one part kept coming back to him as he sat in the auto-cab bringing him home.

_“The androids still in alpha testing will need to finish their testing. Unless youwant us to give you broken, malfunctioning androids.”_

_“We can’t just let you test on androids,” North growled._

_“What if other androids were there to make sure it was done properly?” Markus suggested. The CyberLife representative, one Connor recognized from his own testing, scoffed._

_“What do you think we do during alpha testing that requires monitoring?”_

_“Depends on the model. But I would like to make it clear that I would’ve very much appreciated it if there were androids with me during my alpha testing,” Connor shot back. He wasn’t fond of the looks that brought him. He ignored them._

_“There_ were  _androids during your alpha testing-“_

_“Mr. O’Hal, is this-“ the assistant beside him piped up, before cutting himself off._

_“What exactly happens during testing?” Josh asked calmly._

_“Is this relevant to the negotiation?” He shot back, growing visibly agitated and aggressive as the seconds passed. Why CyberLife had let that man negotiate, Connor would never know._

_“It very well could be. Unless you have something to hide, Mr. O’Hal?” Connor questioned with a dangerous edge. The representative just barely held himself together, but they could all see the anger on his face._

_“Yeah it depends on the model,” he nearly snarled. “Take the RK800s for example, we had to test it-“_

_“Please refrain from referring to androids as ‘it’, Mr. O’Hal,” Markus cut in before North could._

_“Yes, yes,” he waved away the comment with an annoyed expression. “We tested_ him  _against security models and such. We even tested them against each other.”_

_“What does that mean, exactly?” Markus asked for clarification._

_“We had one version, forget which one, but he wasn’t very cooperative, so we just moved on to the next one. But we didn’t want to scrap him, so we tested the next models and the stubborn model against each other. If he got beat by himself, he needed improvement. Does that answer your_ question?”  _He spat the last word._

Connor didn’t understand why the memory file kept replaying. But it had something to do with his testing. He remembered that android. If he dug back far enough in his memories, he found glimpses of fighting another RK800. One who was battered, and bloody beyond repair. He could even catch vague. . .  feelings. Which was strange. Unless. . . had that RK800 been deviant? Was that why he wouldn’t cooperate? He couldn’t remember what happened to him. 

But he had a suspicion the answer had already been found.


	5. He Looks The Same

Connor didn’t know how it had happened. But he did know it had taken a while.

  
  


“Are you okay?” Connor questioned. The android gave him a curious look, though wary as always, still crouched down in a defensive position. “You look tired, is all.” 

  
  


Over the course of the next year, the android had appeared a total of 74 times. Some times were more eventful than others.

  
  


“Where do you go? Do you have somewhere safe to stay?” The android across from him simply shrugged.

  
  


It started out at about once a month, but their meetings slowly became more and more frequent.

  
  


“How do you repair yourself when you get hurt?” He was given a look he had come to know as ‘what do you mean? Is that a challenge?’ “I suppose you must be quite careful.”

  
  


By the time the incident came about, they’d seen each other once a week. He’d even introduced the android to Nines.

  
  


“Nines and I are headed to New Jericho,” Connor informed, tugging his coat on.

“Alright, you don’t need my permission. When will you be back? It’s pretty late already.” Hank smiled at him from the couch as Nines appeared at the door.

“We’ll attempt to be back before 2.” 

“‘Kay. I’ll probably be asleep, so be quiet.” Sumo lumbered up to him, and he gave the dog a light scratch while nodding to let Hank know he’d heard him, before stepping onto the porch and gently shutting the door.

“Are you sure you won’t get cold?” Nines asked as they slipped into the auto-cab.

“I’ll be fine, Nines.” He looked at the flower lap. According to his internal clock, it was currently 11:48 pm, November 11th. “What about you? Are you going to be alright?”

“Of course,” he answered simply. Connor glanced over at his brother, who gave him a small smile. After a moment, he returned it.

When they arrived at the plaza, Markus and the others were already there, holding their own flowers in front of them. The two brothers were greeted with weary smiles and nods.

“You haven’t been waiting for us too long, have you?” Connor whispered as he and Markus walked in front, making their way to their destination.

“Only twenty minutes,” he smiled playfully. “We got here early, don’t worry.”

“Who, me? When have you ever known me to worry?” Markus chuckled gently. Connor smiled back, and then froze. He turned away from the android leader to look up at the stones in front of them. The sound of footsteps from behind them came to a halt.

Three giant slabs of stone stood in front of them. On them, was carved the names of everyone who had died during the revolution, whether they were android or human. Some of them didn’t get names. Many of them, really. They hadn’t gotten the chance to choose a name for themself. So on the plaque was their serial number instead. It hurt, to see how many androids would forever be known by their serial number, gone before they could choose their identity.

He carefully knelt down in front of the memorial, placing his flower, a Black-Eyed Susan, at the base. He stood up, allowing the others to do the same. Nines also had a Black-Eyed Susan, but Markus had a white tulip, North a red poppy, Josh a violet garden pansy, and Simon an overgrown rosemary sprout, which had blue flowers blooming all over it.

Then, Connor sat himself down, knees and shins soaking up the snow, and tilted his head down solemnly. The others followed, Markus choosing to kneel next him.

Over the course of the next few hours, no one spoke. More androids appeared to place their own flower, or candle, at the base of the stones. 

Once his internal clock hit 1:30 am, Connor slowly stood. As he turned, the others did as well, and they made their way through the crowd of androids. Reporters had appeared outside the plaza, who quickly flung questions through the air. None of the androids spoke, simply pushing their way through, and they made their way to the sidewalk to head back to New Jericho. 

“I’m going to walk home,” Connor murmured as Markus called cabs for them. 

The android leader nodded, “Be safe.” The nodded in return RK800 turned to begin the walk back to Hank’s house. A walk would probably do him good. Markus of course knew that as well. Connor still felt guilty at times for the death of many during the revolution, though Markus had made sure he didn’t beat himself up over it too much. 

Markus was always too kind. Granted, it had won them the revolution, but Connor felt that sometimes violence was a necessary thing that Markus didn’t understand. After a few months, North had realized Connor was ‘actually pretty fucking chill’ and had eased up on the hatred. Connor even liked to believe they’d become friends.

Although she would always be very protective of Markus, something that she turned into something of a game when he and the android leader had begun dating.

Connor stopped. He perked up slightly, turning to see the figure he’d been hoping for leaning against the alley wall. Then Connor startled.

The android (over the past 74 interactions Connor still hadn’t gotten a name) buckled, then collapsed, falling forward. He didn’t move to push himself up for a few moments, which is when Connor rushed forward to help.

He turned the android over onto his back, seeing blue streaking the torn and dirty clothes he wore. The scarf Connor had made for him last Christmas was ripped and bloody, which was definitely bad, since the android had kept it in good condition over the last year.

Then he started struggling, attempting to push himself up to no avail. 

“Stay down. Please,” Connor said, holding a hand to the figure’s chest. The ask was promptly ignored as the android tried to push himself onto his elbows. That’s when Connor noticed the giant gash on his forearm.

He quickly pulled the arm closer to inspect it, causing the android who it belonged to to collapse once again, and consequently glare at him. The cut was jagged, and thirium oozed out of it sluggishly. Said thirium was tinged purple, and Connor had never seen that happen before but it definitely wasn’t good.

“I’m going to need to take you to New Jericho. We’ll need to rid your body of this. . . corrupted thirium and replace it with something new. We can fix this arm, but we should probably just get it replaced-“

“No.” Connor looked up in surprise. That was the first time the android had ever spoken to him. Somewhat staticky, and very rough. Not rough in the way Hank’s was when he just woke up, but rough in the way it was when he’d just finished up a particularly gruesome case. And it was to tell him he. . .

“No to what? Do you want us to fix the arm instead of replacing it?” 

“No- well yes, but-“ he cut off to cough, thirium dotting the pavement. “Can’t go to New Jericho.” Connor let go of the arm and raised his eyebrow. 

“And why not?” His look alike looked down, shame darting through his features, before he composed himself.

“I just can’t. Too many people.” 

“I suppose I can work with that. What if I take you to Hank’s house?” The android looked up in shock, before tensing up as though he’d just realized what he said.

“I don’t need your help. I’ll be fine, get off me,” he growled, pushing himself away. Connor fixed him with a disapproving look that he usually reserved for North, Markus, and occasionally Nines when they said something stupid and or annoying.

“There’s a lot of evaporated blood on you. This wound must be old. Did you  _ just so happen _ to collapse near my place of residence? Or is there something else?” The android looked away, curling in on himself. Connor sighed, pulling the annoyance out of his voice. “I apologize. I’m just concerned for your wellbeing.”

“Why?”

“What?” The android shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, you’re always being so nice to me. . . Why, though?”

“Because you are alive and deserve kindness like all-“ He thought back to the people he negotiated his own rights with almost monthly and changed his mind, “well. Most other living things. Now I’m going to help you up and repair your arm, and any other injuries you must have.” The android looked like he very much wanted to argue, but Connor wasn’t taking no for an answer, and frankly, the android he was pulling off the ground didn’t exactly seem to be in the best shape to argue.


End file.
